


Tribblepod One

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-14
Updated: 2006-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: I bet you thought that Kirk's crew were the first to encounter the tribbles...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Paramount owns everything, I own nothing (except for a couple of OC's) and I'm not getting paid for this.

Beta: Kathy B, who keeps me pointed in the right direction when I go astray.  


* * *

**Tribblepod One.**

**Chapter One.**

â€œKathy,â€ crewman Liz Cutler hissed urgently at her friend. â€œWhat have you got there?â€ She poked the bag crewman Kathy Williams was carefully holding on her lap.

â€œLeave it, Liz.â€ Kathy's command was whispered fiercely in response. â€œI'll tell you later. We don't want them finding out.â€ 

'Them' were Captain Jonathan Archer, Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, who were all busy at the controls of the shuttlepod as it returned to 'Enterprise'. The crew had been spending some time visiting the planet they were now orbiting, and this was the last trip the shuttlepod was making to bring everyone back up. 'Enterprise' would be leaving orbit as soon as they were on board.

â€œBut Kathy,â€ Liz insisted, â€œI saw it move.â€

â€œAll the more reason to keep quiet.â€ Kathy glared at Liz. Liz remained silent for the rest of the short flight.

* * *

Liz accompanied Kathy to her quarters, determined to find out what her friend had brought back from the planet. She had seen it move several times now, so she knew it was something alive. Kathy was rather fond of bringing weird souvenirs back from planetside trips, and Liz thought that maybe her friend had gone a bit too far this time.  
Kathy keyed in her door code and entered quickly, pulling Liz in after her.

â€œI found the cutest little thing on a stall in the market, Liz. I just had to have it.â€

â€œWell, show me then.â€ 

Liz was consumed with curiosity as Kathy carefully opened the bag.  
She reached in and drew out a small, round object. It looked like a furry ball about fifteen centimetres in diameter, and when she placed it in Liz's hands, it was warm and soft. It moved a little and made soft cooing noises. It sounded content. The fur was long, silky and a golden brown colour. Liz fell in love with it immediately.

â€œOh, isn't it sweet?â€ she cooed. â€œWhat is it?â€

â€œThe stall holder said it was a tribble.â€

* * *

**Chapter Two**

At dinner in the mess hall that evening, Kathy took her tray over to where Liz was sitting.

â€œHi, mind if I join you?â€

â€œSure. Plenty of room.â€ Liz indicated the three empty chairs. Then, looking at her friend, remarked, â€œYou seem a bit worried. Is anything wrong?â€

Kathy sighed, pushed the food around on her plate a bit, then said, â€œYou could say that. The tribble...â€

â€œWhat? Has it escaped?â€

â€œNo. Worse than that.â€

â€œWhat could be worse?â€

â€œHaving eleven of them?â€

â€œEleven?â€ Liz almost squeaked. â€œWhat do you mean?â€

â€œI had one. Now I have eleven. You work it out.â€

â€œYou mean it has. . .?â€

â€œReproduced. Yes. It must have been already pregnant.â€

â€œOh, no!â€

â€œOh, yes. It was one thing hiding one on the ship till we get back to Earth. Hiding eleven is going to be much more of a problem.â€

â€œYeah, I'll bet. Where are you going to keep them? And have you found out what they eat, yet?â€

â€œOne was happy in a box in my quarters, but I don't think eleven will be so obliging once they grow a bit. As for food, they seem to eat anything I put out for them, though I haven't actually seen them eating. The food just disappears.â€

â€œAnd what have you offered them?â€ asked Liz.

â€œAll sorts. Fruit, sandwiches, cheese, chocolate. I haven't tried meat, yet. I don't think I like the idea of them being meat-eaters.â€

â€œWell, if they eat cheese, at least they are getting protein. I suppose you could try eggs, too.â€

â€œBut where am I going to get all this from? Feeding one would have been simple enough, but now there are eleven. . .â€ Kathy groaned in despair.

â€œWhy don't you give them away?â€ Liz suggested. â€œI'm sure other crewmembers will be keen to have one, when they know about them. They are such cute, affectionate creatures.â€

â€œThat's a good idea. Then I'd only have the one to feed and house again.â€ Kathy looked a little more cheerful.

Shortly after, they left the mess hall, planning who they could offer the tribbles to. â€œThere's Keeley. She's nuts about small furry things.â€

â€œAnd Namon.â€

â€œYes. And what about Kelly?â€

â€œNah. She's too close to Commander Tucker.â€

â€œThat's true. Massaro?â€

â€œDillard.â€

â€œMacarthur?â€

â€œAlmack?â€

â€œFuller. . .â€

The ten baby tribbles were duly rehomed in different crew quarters around the ship, but well away from the senior officersâ€™ quarters on B deck and the captain's quarters.

*

At mealtimes, certain crewmen could be seen loading their trays with more than they would normally eat, and then, having sat at a table, they would surreptitiously wrap a number of food items in a napkin to take back to their pets.

The baby tribbles grew rapidly â€“ very rapidly! Then the day after getting her new pet, Crewman Massaro caught up with Kathy in the corridor outside her quarters and hissed in her ear, â€œMy tribble has just had eight babies.â€

â€œWhat?â€ Kathy gasped. â€œIt can't have. It's less than twenty-four hours old.â€

â€œCome and see if you don't believe me.â€ And she pulled Kathy along the corridor to her own quarters.

â€œThere,â€ she exclaimed, dramatically. â€œNow do you believe me?â€

Kathy looked at the 'nest' of one large and eight small tribbles in the middle of Shelly's bunk, and groaned.

â€œI think I'd better check on the others,â€ she said. â€œI hope they haven't reproduced, too. If they have, this is going to be disastrous.â€

She was out of luck. Within twenty-four hours all nine of the others had given birth to between seven and twelve babies.

This was getting out of hand. First there was one, then eleven, and now â€“ she did some quick calculations â€“ there must be about a hundred of them!

* * *

**Chapter Three.**

The following day, Chef was in the captain's ready room making a complaint.  
â€œI just don't understand it, captain. There is normally plenty of food to go around, but yesterday I had people coming to me and asking where their meals were. It's like we have fifty extra mouths to feed but nobody thought to tell me.â€

â€œWell, Chef, I can assure you that we don't have fifty extra people on board. It's just the usual eighty-three and a dog.â€

â€œThen where is all this food I've been cooking disappearing to? Because I'm quite sure that angry crewmen are not eating it. I'm having to cook extra meals now.â€

â€œI really don't know what is happening, Chef. I'll get our chief of security onto it. He's good at solving riddles.â€

â€œWell, he'd better solve this one P.D.Q.â€ With that, Chef stalked out of the ready room, with a thunderous expression on his face.

â€œOh, dear,â€ sighed Archer, running his hand through his hair, â€œpeople really shouldn't upset Chef. I hate it when he gets in a tizz about something. Meals are unbearable for days.â€ He sighed again and reached for the communication button.

â€œArcher to Reed.â€

â€œGo ahead, sir.â€

â€œMy ready room, Malcolm. Right away, please.â€

â€œOn my way, sir. Reed out.â€

*

Malcolm spent some time just watching people in the mess hall. He noticed several crewmembers taking rather large portions and also rather more that he thought they would be able to eat.  
Eventually, he singled out one of these people to question.

â€œRight, crewman,â€ he began, â€œare you feeling extra hungry today, or something? Perhaps you have some new kind of disease that means you have to eat everything in sight? Or is there a simpler explanation?â€

Crewman Colleen Macarthur, looking rather flummoxed, said, â€œI really don't know what you mean, sir.â€

â€œOh, I think you do.â€ Malcolm replied. â€œSo why don't you just tell me and avoid a lot of unpleasantness.â€

â€œThere's nothing to tell, sir.â€

â€œDo you mean to say that you are going to eat every scrap of food on your tray?â€

â€œUm. . . Well. . . Um. No, sir.â€

â€œThen, why did you put it there?â€

â€œWell, you see, Sir. . .â€

â€œGo on, crewman, I'm waiting.â€

â€œIt's for . . .â€

â€œYes? It's for - who?â€

â€œNot who, sir. What.â€

â€œOK then. What is it for?â€

â€œMy pet, sir.â€

â€œYour PET?â€

â€œYes, sir.â€

â€œCrewman, this is like getting blood out of a stone. Would you please explain what you are talking   
about?â€

â€œI have a pet, sir. It's called a tribble and it came from the planet we visited recently. It seems to be continually hungry.â€

â€œAnd so you are feeding it with crew rations?â€

â€œWell, I don't know where else to get food for it.â€

Malcolm considered this explanation for a bit. It was plausible, but would not account for all the other people taking extra food unless - 

â€œTell me, crewman, is it just you has one of these animals or, heaven forbid, have other crewmen got them?â€

â€œI believe several people have them, sir.â€

â€œDefine 'several'.â€

â€œUm, maybe fifteen or twenty, sir.â€

â€œFIFTEEN OR TWENTY!â€ Malcolm was livid. He dropped his voice to a very menacing low, almost a whisper. â€œDo you realise that not even ONE of them should be on board without   
permission?â€

â€œEr, yes, sir.â€ She was physically squirming under his questioning.

Malcolm forced himself to regain his composure and remain calm.

â€œCrewman, you are coming with me to the captain. You will tell him everything you know about these animals and how they came to be on board.â€

â€œYes, sir.â€ Malcolm almost frog-marched the hapless crewman out of the mess hall.

* * *

**Chapter Four.**

â€œSo,â€ Captain Archer gave the crewman a serious look, â€œlet me get this straight. Crewman Williams brought one tribble back from a visit to a planet recently, and it gave birth to ten babies. She gave these ten away to other crewmen and now THEY are having babies. The young animals appear to be able to reproduce within a day, and they have litters of anything from seven to twelve. Have I got this right so far?â€

â€œYes, sir,â€ Crewman MacArthur whispered.

â€œAnd these animals are being passed to any crewman willing to take one on. Yes?â€

â€œYes, sir.â€

â€œDo you realise that the rate at which they are reproducing, there will be hundreds of them in   
very short order?â€

â€œI realise that now, sir, but at the time I didn't see any harm in it.â€

â€œNo, of course you didn't. And neither did Williams, but she should never have brought one on board in the first place. You're dismissed, crewman. I'll consider what disciplinary action to take later.â€

MacArthur was very glad to leave the captain's presence.

â€œWilliams seems to have been the instigator of all this, Malcolm, so I think I'd better talk to her.â€

â€œWould you like me to bring her here, sir?â€ Malcolm asked. It wasn't often that he had the opportunity to make an arrest and bring the guilty party in front of the Captain. The 'crime' rate on the ship was almost non-existent.

â€œYes, Malcolm.â€ Archer sighed. He didn't like the way this was going. How were they going to cope with countless tribbles? He had no idea.

If MacArthur had it bad, Williams had it ten times worse. She was in tears when she got back to her quarters, and she, as yet, had no idea what punishment she would get.

*

Archer called a meeting of the Command Staff. He told his officers, in detail, everything he had learned about the creatures. Then asked for anything they could add.

There was silence for a moment, then Hoshi suggested that they might not be the problem he envisaged. â€œPerhaps they won't reproduce much more,â€ she offered. â€œSome animals have a definite breeding period, and then they go into a kind of hibernation. These could be like that. They have a breeding frenzy, and then nothing for months â€“ even years.â€

â€œI, too, have heard of such animals, Captain,â€ T'Pol said. â€œThere are some in various planetary systems which the Vulcans have charted. It is feasible.â€

â€œWell, what do you suggest we do about them?â€ He looked at his security officer.

â€œI think we need to know exactly how many of them there are, and which crewmembers have them.â€ Malcolm was thinking of the ship's security. â€œI don't like the idea of them getting loose and running round the ship. You never know where they might get to.â€

â€œI agree with you there, Malcolm.â€ Archer seemed more cheerful now something was about to happen. â€œI want you all to talk to your subordinates and get this information. How many, and who has them. Report to Malcolm as soon as possible. OK? Dismiss.â€ 

They all left for their various departments to interrogate their staff.

 

They were too late.

* * *

**Chapter Five.**

The tribbles had already escaped from the crewmen's quarters, and were happily bouncing around the ship's corridors. 

Over the next few hours, they were to be seen in such places as the mess hall, the quartermaster's stores, the gymnasium (can't imagine what they were doing there!), engineering and the armoury. It seemed that everywhere you looked â€“ there was a tribble, or ten.

*

Malcolm stepped out of his shower with a towel wrapped loosely around his middle. He opened a drawer to get his clean underwear and stepped back in disgust. Several multi-coloured balls of fluff were sleeping amongst his socks and smalls. He fastidiously picked up a pair of boxers in which a tribble was nestling, and unceremoniously tipped it onto the floor. It squeaked in annoyance and rolled around in circles.

Moving quickly, Malcolm opened the door of his quarters wide, went back inside and shooed the tribbles out of his drawer. He followed them into the corridor and gave the last one a mighty kick which sent it flying down ahead of its mates. â€œAnd don't come back,â€ he called after them. 

Then he realised that his towel had slipped, so bent down to retrieve it. As he did so, he heard wolf whistles in the corridor behind him. He looked back and saw three junior crewmembers, two of them women, and they all had big grins on their faces. â€œNice bum, lieutenant!â€ one of the women called out. He straightened up facing the crewmen, thus giving them a full frontal view, threw his towel over his shoulder, and strolled nonchalantly back inside his quarters, leaving the crewmen looking rather stunned.

*

In the captain's quarters, Porthos was snoozing on his cushion at the foot of Archer's bed. His nose started twitching. He opened one eye, and was confronted with a ball of chocolate brown fluff. It was snuggled up against him, cooing quietly to itself. Puzzled, he sniffed it, decided that it was harmless, and went back to sleep.

Coming back from his shift an hour later, Archer was surprised to see Porthos apparently sleeping on a multi-coloured fur blanket. As usual, Archer was greeted warmly by his pet as soon as he arrived home, but in doing so, he dislodged his 'blanket', which turned out to be about fifteen tribbles of different hues. Said tribbles immediately bounced and rolled around the room, looking for. . . what?

Angrily, Archer opened the door and encouraged them to leave. They seemed happy do so, and were soon rolling and bouncing down the corridor.

â€œDid you have to have your friends round, Porthos?â€

Porthos gazed up at his master, hurt. â€œThere was only one when I last looked, and I didn't invite him.â€,

Half an hour later, Captain Archer was in his private mess about to have his dinner. It had just been served by the steward when the comm. beeped.

â€œTucker to Captain Archer.â€

â€œWhat now?â€ he complained as he went to answer Trip's call. â€œGo ahead, Trip.â€

â€œCap'n, you've gotta come down to Engineering and see what's going on here. We're overwhelmed with tribbles and they're getting into everything. We're gonna have major trouble soon.â€

â€œBe right there, Trip. Archer out. Steward,â€ he called, â€œcover my dinner, will you? I'll be back - I hope.â€

*

Down in Engineering, Trip was getting really ratty. The animals were everywhere and his staff seemed unable to clear them out of delicate systems. As soon as one area was cleared, they were to be found in another. Then that area was cleared and the first was full of them again. He was tearing his hair out in despair. If they got into some of the more delicate systems, there could be fires, explosions, and goodness knows what else!

Archer saw Trip's problem immediately he poked his head inside the door. Trip was actually standing on top of the warp engine shooing the animals off.

â€œHey, Cap'n,â€ he called on seeing his C.O. â€œThis has got beyond a joke, if it ever was one. These critters should be classified as pests and exterminated. They're causing too many problems.â€

â€œI see your point, Trip,â€ Archer said as he came across the room to the engine. â€œHave they done any real damage anywhere?â€

â€œWell, no. Not yet, but it's only a matter of time.â€

â€œI wonder if Malcolm has come up with any ideas yet?â€

â€œIf he hasn't, he'd better do so P.D.Q. I need to have them cleared right out of this area.â€ Trip was not happy.

â€œI think we need to have a talk. I'll call a senior staff conference in my ready room in half an hour.â€

â€œI'll be there.â€ Trip looked grim. He gazed at the chaos around him, and wished he could blast them all out of an airlock.

*

Chef was having even greater problems. The tribbles had invaded his galley, managed to get into the storerooms, larder and coldstore, and were definitely making a meal of it. They were eating everything! They were just like a swarm of locusts. Preparing meals for the crew was becoming increasingly difficult. If they continued like this the crew was going to starve. Something had to be done â€“ and soon.

*

In her quarters, T'Pol was preparing to meditate. She lit her candles, carefully extinguishing the taper, then went to get a cushion, which she placed on the floor. At that moment the comm. beeped.

â€œThe captain requires all senior staff to attend a meeting in his ready room, in thirty minutes, please.â€ 

If T'Pol had been capable of saying, â€œDamn,â€ she probably would have done, as it was she merely raised an eyebrow a fraction, and pressed the button to respond. â€œUnderstood, T'Pol out.â€ Half an hour was not long enough for meditation, she would have to wait.

She turned around to snuff out her candles â€“ and found her cushion now occupied by several multi-coloured tribbles. 

'This is not acceptable,' she thought. 'Where did they come from.' She looked around her quarters hoping to find how they had got in, but, of course, was unsuccessful. She went into the bathroom and collected a towel into which she gathered the tribbles.

â€œI have no idea how you got into my quarters,â€ she told them, â€œbut you are leaving immediately.â€ She opened the door, and flapped the towel to shake the animals out into the corridor. She re-entered her room thinking that, after that, she really needed to meditate right now, but knew that there was not enough time.

*

Archer sat down to resume his dinner, hoping it had not gone cold. He lifted the stainless steel dome off his plate â€“ and half-a-dozen tribbles fell into his lap. Of his dinner, there was no sign!

â€œThat does it!â€ he declared. â€œThis is WAR.â€

* * *

**Chapter Six.**

 

The senior staff were deep in discussions about how to rid the ship of the tribbles. Malcolm and Trip were all for exterminating them like vermin. But Hoshi, Travis and Phlox wanted a more humane way of dealing with them. 

â€œWell, T'Pol,â€ Archer asked, â€œyou haven't said anything. What do you think?â€ 

â€œI think that some of you are forgetting that this is a sentient species. They have as much right to life as we do. Therefore we must find a way of getting them to a suitable planet and re-homing them.â€

â€œWhat?â€ spluttered an indignant Trip. â€œAnd just how do you propose we do that? How do we catch them, and get them all in one place, huh?â€

â€œThat's something we're going to have to work on, Trip,â€ Archer replied, trying to keep the situation reasonably calm, â€œAnd T'Pol is going to have to find a suitable planet.â€

â€œIt would have to be an M class planet,â€ suggested Phlox, â€œpreferably unpopulated, as I can't see many types of beings wanting these animals on their homeworld. They would take over in short order.â€

â€œRight,â€ Archer seemed to come to a decision. â€œT'Pol, get to work finding these creatures a new home. Malcolm, come up with a plan to get them into one place, so we can land them safely. You have twenty-four hours. Get to it.â€

* *

Malcolm left the ready room wondering what he had done to deserve this. He had to come up with a plan. Twenty-four hours, and he hadn't a clue where to start, there were so many of them. Far too many for the brig. He would much rather shoot every single one of them personally â€“ and his phase pistol would not be set to stun.

He thought he'd enlist Trip's help, so went down to engineering. Trip, however, was in no mood to indulge Malcolm, and whilst he was telling Malcolm to do his job and secure the ship, there was a loud bang followed by hissing and crackling from one of the consoles. Then lights were flashing and people yelling and running around.

â€œGet outta here, Malcolm,â€ Trip shouted angrily. â€œGo do your job, and let me get on with mine. They'll have the warp engine off line if we don't get rid of them soon.â€ 

Malcolm left quickly, jumping over a gaggle of tribbles as he did so, deciding he'd go to his quarters and do some thinking.

Heading towards the turbolift, he saw the captain coming his way, followed by a multi-coloured rolling tide of tribbles.

â€œCaptain,â€ he asked, â€œyou do realise what's following you, don't you?â€

â€œIt's Porthos!â€ He sounded frustrated. â€œThey seem to like him rather a lot. I brought him out for a walk, and we were immediately surrounded.â€

Malcolm looked into the mess of fur and spotted Porthos, who blended in very well with the brown gold and black colourings, apparently having a great time with his friends.

â€œI think he's having fun,â€ observed Malcolm.

â€œThatâ€™s as may be, but I'm going to have a job getting him back inside my quarters without having a load of them in, too.â€

â€œDo they follow him every time he goes out?â€ Malcolm asked, casually.

â€œYes. Why?â€

Malcolm clicked his fingers. â€œI've just had a brilliant idea, sir. Must go,â€ and he turned and sprinted towards the turbolift.

* * *

**Chapter Seven.**

â€œReed to Tucker.â€

â€œGo ahead, Mal.â€

â€œI've formulated a plan, Trip, but I need engineering help.â€

â€œWe'd better discuss it then. My quarters. Ten minutes. Tucker out.â€

Malcolm grinned to himself. It hadn't taken him too long to come up with his plan, once the idea had come to him, so he picked up his PADD and headed for Trip's quarters.

Trip was looking the worse for wear, and although it was gone midnight, he had obviously just come back from engineering.

â€œDid you get things sorted down there?â€ Malcolm asked. 

â€œMore or less. Can't take much more of this, though.â€

â€œIf my plan works, you won't have to.â€

â€œOK. So tell me what you've got.â€

â€œI need a large container, big enough to take all the tribbles. If we build it in the launch bay, we can drop it full of tribbles onto whatever planet T'Pol finds.â€

â€œWe've got to be kind to these critters, Malcolm. If we drop 'em in a metal box, they're all gonna end up dead!â€

â€œNot if the box has parachutes, and when it lands, it rolls but doesn't roll too far.â€

â€œParachutes, huh?â€

â€œI've checked with the quartermaster and he's got three suitable for the job.â€

â€œWhat's this about rolling?â€

â€œIf we make it a polyhedron, with twelve faces of five-sided planes, it will roll when it hits the ground, but not too much.â€

â€œI'd better see if I've got twelve suitably large-sized pieces of alloy, then.â€ Trip reached up to the comm. unit and soon had the relevant information.

â€œWhat sort of volume do you think we'll need, Mal?â€

â€œAt the moment I don't know. We've got to get all the tribbles in at one go, and as they're spread all over the ship, it's difficult to work out how many there are. I think we'll just have to make it as big as possible.â€

â€œThe biggest sheets of alloy we've got will make panels with sides of two metres. That'll be about. . .â€ He did some quick mental calculations, â€œSixty-one point three cubic metres. D'ya think that'll be big enough?â€

â€œI've no idea, Trip. But if that's the best we can manage, it'll have to do.â€

â€œI won't ask how you're gonna get them into this box, Mal, 'cos I don't wanna know. But how're you gonna get them out once they're on the planet?â€

â€œWhat's my speciality, Trip?â€

â€œExplosions.â€

â€œRight.â€

â€œYou're not gonna wait till they're down there, then blow them all to kingdom come, are you?â€ Trip asked, aghast.

â€œNo, Trip. We've got to be _kind_ to them, remember? I'll open the container with a series of small, controlled explosions. They'll be able to leave completely unharmed. Hoshi will be delighted.â€

*

Work began on the container first thing next morning, both armoury and engineering teams pitching in. Everyone was keen to see the back of the tribbles.

It took them all day. It was hot, heavy work, lifting all the panels into position and then welding them together.

One panel in the front was hinged at the top so that when the last tribble was in, it could be dropped shut and would lock automatically. Malcolm had put his explosive charges in strategic places, and   
the parachutes were attached. They would open as soon as the container dropped out of the ship, so that it would have a gentle ride down to the surface. 

There were just two more things that Malcolm needed. He found the captain in his ready room and asked him, â€œCaptain, has T'Pol found a home for the tribbles, yet?â€

â€œYes, and we're on our way there, now. An M-class planet with lots of interesting vegetation, insect, birds, and an assortment of mammals. It should suit them fine. We arrive in a few hours.â€

â€œThat's good. Um. . . captain, I need Porthos' bed, and I'm afraid he won't get it back.â€

â€œWhat?â€ Archer was puzzled. â€œWhat on Earth do you want with Porthos' bed?â€

â€œTo help get rid of the tribbles, sir. And the quartermaster is in the process of making Porthos a new bed as we speak.â€

â€œSo why donâ€™t you use the new one and leave Porthos with his own bed?â€

â€œIt wouldnâ€™t do the job I have in mind, sir.â€

â€œOh, well. Fine. I'll have a steward bring it for you.â€

â€œI'm afraid I'm going to need Porthos, too. But you will get him back,â€ Malcolm hurriedly added as Archer was about to protest.

â€œBefore I agree, I want to know what you're planning.â€

â€œOf course, sir.â€

*

â€œRight, let's get Operation Eviction under way,â€ Malcolm thought as he carried Porthosâ€™ bed back to his quarters. Within a short while, the bed was in a hundred small pieces, most of them with a length of string attached. He then sent out a comm. message asking all personnel not actually doing something essential, to come to the mess hall immediately. Picking up the sack containing Porthosâ€™ bed, he made his way quickly.there. Quite a crowd had gathered there already, wondering what was up. He emptied the sack onto a table to the surprise, and in some cases disgust, of the crewmembers, then told them what he wanted.

â€œYou are each to take one of these pieces of Porthos' bedding and use it to entice tribbles to follow you. Don't worry about open places like corridors, I'm more concerned about the nooks and crannies. And there are a lot of them! Dangle the bedding inside conduits and jefferies tubes, cupboards, lockers, anywhere that these animals could possibly hide. When you've attracted some, lead them down to the launch bay. You'll be told what to do there. Then go find some more. Let's see if we can get them all rounded up in two hours.â€

Very soon, the pile of bedding was reduced to nothing but a few scraps and some dust.

*

'Enterprise' had now reached the planet that Tâ€™Pol had selected for the tribbles new home, and was searching for a suitable landing site. Eventually she picked out a large island about the size of Australia as being the best place. It had a variation in climate from cool to tropical, and the geography changed from mountains, through forests and swamps, to near desert. The tribbles would be able to choose the areas that suited them best. Travis found a large grassy area in gently rolling countryside, and took the ship down as near the surface as was safe. To the north of the landing site was a mountain range, and to the west was a forested area. A small river ran along the eastern edge. It was perfect.

The ship was in geo-synchronous orbit above the drop zone, waiting.

* * *

**Chapter Eight.**

The ship was a hive of activity. Everywhere people could be found poking into corners and cubby-holes trying to entice the tribbles out using Porthos' bedding as bait. Malcolm had realised that they loved the 'aroma' that Porthos gave out. It seemed to call to them and they were only too happy to follow, as they had followed Porthos on his walks around the ship with the captain. Many people had bags slung over their shoulders in which they collected the animals, then took the full bag to the launch bay where it was upended into the container.

Captain Archer arrived at the launch bay to see how things were progressing, and was amused to find someone had painted a name on the container â€“ Tribblepod One.

â€œBetcha can't guess who's idea that was, Cap'n,â€ asked Trip, as he tipped some more animals in.

â€œDon't tell me. Had to be Malcolm.â€

â€œGot it in one, Cap'n.â€

â€œWhere is he, by the way?â€

â€œDown in the bowels of the ship with Porthos somewhere, making sure none get left behind.â€

â€œGood. You seem to be just tipping them in there, not making sure they won't get out again.â€

â€œMalcolm put some of Porthos' bedding in there first. They love it so much, they're making no attempt to escape.â€

Archer laughed. He was pleased they were finally getting some way towards freeing the ship of these unwelcome visitors.

*

Malcolm, meanwhile, was encouraging Porthos to root around in all sorts of odd places, discovering tribbles galore. Porthos would then lead them, like the Pied Piper, to a corridor where they could be gathered up by other crewmembers. This process was repeated over and over.

T'Pol and other members of the science department were scanning all decks for signs of tribbles after they had been cleared, to ensure that none were left behind. It would be disastrous if even just one was missed!

On his way through a cargo bay, Malcolm helped himself to a golf club from a bag he spotted in a corner. They belonged to Lt. Barclay, (although when he was expecting to use them was a mystery), but Malcolm found a club was just the thing for encouraging tribbles to go where he wanted them.

*

Back at the shuttlebay, reports were coming in from all the areas that had been cleared, and no biosigns found by the scanners. The bridge, galley and mess hall, astrometrics, hydroponics, engineering and the armoury were all clear. Then they got the all-clear from sickbay, B-deck, F-deck, the nacelles and catwalks, and observation lounges. At this rate the whole ship would soon be free of them, and the pod could be ejected.

Tribbles were bouncing and rolling down the corridor to the shuttle bay and actually queuing up to allow a crewman to toss them into the pod. Others were still being tipped in by the bagful, and the pod was getting rather full.

Trip looked at the amount of space left in the pod and began to wonder if it was going to be big enough.

â€œWe made it as big as we could,â€ he told Archer. â€œI would have thought that was big enough, but now I'm not so sure.â€

â€œLet's hope there are not too many still to come, then,â€ Archer replied.

Word seemed to have got around amongst the tribbles that there was something exciting going on, and they were tumbling out of their hidey-holes of their own accord, and happily going where sent. 

This made the job of rounding them up so much easier that crewmen were laughing and joking now, rather than treating it as a chore. They were even vying with each other to see who could collect the most in one go.

It took longer than Malcolm's predicted two hours, but still they soon had most areas cleared. T'pol was scanning each area personally from the bridge, to ensure that there were no tribble biosigns. 

She finally declared the ship free of tribbles so Captain Archer ordered the doors to the launch bay to be closed, and the door of Tribblepod One, also to be closed.  
.  
Then there was a shout â€œThere's another one!â€ Sure enough running along the corridor were Malcolm and Porthos chasing a small ball of orange fluff.

â€œStop the doors!â€ ordered Archer. â€œThey'll never get it there in time.â€

Malcolm swung his golf club, lifting the creature up and sending it quickly down the corridor, where Trip caught it. Turning towards the shuttle bay, and with a perfect baseball pitch, Trip sent it straight through the rapidly diminishing gap between the doors. There was only a hairsbreadth to spare on either side. The creature dropped neatly into Tribblepod One and disappeared. The panel closed and locked with a satisfying clunk. 

For a moment there was silence, then everyone was cheering. Trip, staring at the now closed doors, said, â€œPhew. That was close.â€

T'Pol, speaking through the comm. from the bridge said, â€œI've run further scans, captain, and I can detect no more tribble bio-signs on the ship.â€

â€œGood!â€ The captain looked round at the group. â€œThat means we can proceed.â€ He stepped up to the control panel and turned round to the waiting crowd of crewmen.

â€œLadies and gentlemen, for the past few days we have been harassed, inconvenienced, embarrassed, and had our lives seriously disrupted by these obnoxious little creatures. They have insinuated themselves into every system of the ship causing all kinds of damage, some mild, but mostly severe, which has meant putting other things aside in order to do repairs. They have eaten our food, disturbed our sleep and ruined friendships. They may be just a ball of innocent looking fluff, but they are probably the most dangerous creatures in the universe. Therefore I have great pleasure in pronouncing them well and truly â€“ evicted!â€ And, on the last word, he pressed the button.

The launchbay doors swung open, the area decompressed, and Tribblepod One fell down towards the unsuspecting planet. The three parachutes opened allowing the Pod to fall gently, until it finally landed in a grassy area.

Everyone ran to the windows to see where it had landed, and to watch the next bit.

Malcolm picked up his remote detonator and pressed a button. Immediately a series of mini explosions could be seen around the top and sides of the Pod, then it fell apart. At once, the tribbles were jostling each other to get out, and soon were seen rolling, bouncing and hopping away in all directions. Minutes later they had all disappeared from view.

â€œClose launchbay doors,â€ Archer ordered. 

The doors were closed, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

â€œArcher to the bridge.â€

â€œGo ahead, captain.â€

â€œGet us away from here at maximum warp, T'Pol.â€

â€œAt once, captain.â€

â€œI think this calls for a celebration,â€ Archer announced. â€œWe'll have a party in the mess hall tonight.â€

A rousing cheer greeted this news, and gradually they all dispersed to their various duties.

Except for Captain Archer. He was anxiously looking around and wondering, â€œWhere's Porthos?â€

* * *


End file.
